Last Act of Cowardice
by RatherLipstick
Summary: After Paris, Andy writes a letter to Miranda.
1. Chapter 1

_Miranda,_

_Firstly, I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry I couldn't say these things to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you so unprofessionally, without a word. I'm sorry I couldn't be your assistant when you needed me to be. I'm sorry I became the disappointment you always expected me to be. _

_Of course I owe it to you to give a reason. So here I am, writing to you, because even in my final farewell I can't find the courage to tell you in person how I feel._

_Who knew that one could play for time, even in a letter?_

_I left Runway - no, that does you an injustice - I left _you_ in Paris because I fell in love with you. _

_Please believe me that I tried to continue working as usual for the longest time. I told myself that this feeling would go away. I _prayed_ it would. Then, in Paris, and after what felt like a lifetime of loving you, I knew that I couldn't go on. Not like that. Not pretending that everything was the same as before: that I was content to be just your assistant. At the hotel, when I most wanted to reach out to you, you told me that you just needed me to do my job. At that moment, I realised I couldn't._

_You are the most fascinating, charming, intelligent lady I've had the pleasure of meeting and _that_, Miranda, is why I had to leave you. _

_You may wonder why I took so long to write to you and explain myself. The truth is that I needed to decide what was best for me now. New York is filled with too many memories and if I am to give myself any chance of mending this broken heart, I need to leave this city, and you, behind._

_In my last act of cowardice, I leave you this letter on my way to the airport._

_I wish you all the best in your future ventures and hope that you find someone who will love you as much, and treat you as well, as you deserve._

_With all my heart,_

_Andrea_


	2. Chapter 2

"Emily!"

The newly-reinstated first assistant jumped at the sound of Miranda's raised voice. She scuttled, notepad in hand, to the inner office. The editor nearly collided with Emily as she strode towards the elevator.

"Car. Now."

Miranda's voice broke in the second word and Emily practically squeaked a "yes" before dialling Roy. God help whomever stood in Miranda's line of fire, she thought. The redhead had never seen such a look on her boss' face before. She couldn't quite place it.

Roy was promptly waiting with the car when Miranda marched out of the Elias Clarke building. He noticed the editor's expression as she slid into the backseat and frowned in concern. Well-practised in hiding his apprehension, the driver quickly smiled politely at Miranda as he shut the door.

Andy was glad she hadn't put any makeup on that morning: she could cry as much as she wanted without worrying about tear tracks in foundation and mascara streaming down her cheeks. In fact, Andy hadn't worn an ounce of makeup since returning from Paris. She couldn't remember a day since then that she hadn't cried. Today was no different. She ignored the odd looks from other passengers in the check-in queue as she felt another wave of sobs come over her.

She calmed down slightly as she shuffled forward in the queue and dragged her suitcase to the available desk. The stewardess was a beefy fifty-year-old whose eyes softened as she took in the sight of the bedraggled woman in front of her: food-stained hoody, tied-back hair, puffy red eyes and all.

"Good morning!" The stewardess sounded far too cheerful for Andy's liking. "Where are you flying to today?"

The brunette made a small attempt to return the woman's bright smile. But failed. Miserably.

"Er, Cincinnati," she mumbled.

"How lovely. Could I have your documents, please?"

Andy pulled them from her front pocket and a few sweet wrappers fell out at the same time. She handed all her papers to the stewardess and bent down to pick up the wrappers.

"Sorry," she muttered to no one in particular.

Andy was about to stand up when she heard a familiar rhythm. Her hands froze, grasping the sticky wrappers. It was the distinct rhythm made by the shoes on the feet of one woman and one woman alone. Her breath caught and a second later those shoes - shiny, black, red-soled, and standing right in front of her - were the only thing Andy could see.


	3. Chapter 3

_Last part to this short piece. R&R always appreciated. _

* * *

"How. Dare. You."

Andy flinched at the sound of each of Miranda's words. Her eyes not daring to meet Miranda's, she rose to her feet, gaze still glued to the Louboutins.

"_Andrea_."

The young woman gulped, but kept her focus on the shoes.

"_Look at me_."

The command was enunciated with precision and each word pulled at Andy's heart, threatening to bring another onset of tears.

Andy looked up. Slowly. She lifted her eyes at a painful pace, moving up perfect calves, over the hem of the pencil skirt, resting on the curve of those thighs, stifling a sob at the sight of a delicate hand poised so menacingly on Miranda's hip. The brunette took a deep breath, mustered every ounce of strength left in her, and darted her eyes upwards to look into on the editor's face.

Miranda looked beautiful. Miranda looked angry. Miranda looked hurt. Andy could see everything in that perfect -_ so damned perfect - _face_. _

"Miranda-" Andy began.

The older woman cut her off.

"No. You've said your piece. You've said everything you needed to say."

Andy swallowed hard, biting back tears. This was it. Now came the ultimate rejection and humiliation. She had tried to run but Miranda wouldn't let her.

"How _could _you_?_ You thought you could just drop something like that into my lap and then _leave? _Leave for good? You stupid, stupid girl!"

Miranda was faintly aware of the situation around her: the stares, the whispers, the pointing. She didn't care. Her anger consumed her. In the car she had tried to reason with herself, calm herself down, but _now, upon _seeing Andrea, Miranda's hurt had stamped out every last piece of reason from her mind. Her eyes blazed an incredible blue and her cheeks were a bright red. Her lips pursed as she tried to take a steadying breath through her nose.

"Did you think I didn't _care? _Is that it?" Miranda continued, almost in a snarl.

"In Paris when I told you to do your job, that was because I _needed _you to. A messy divorce was on my hands, and who better to help handle everything than you? I thought I had more time, I thought _we _had more time. And, idiotically, I thought you _knew_. I thought you knew the power of the unspoken. Emily could see it; Nigel could see it; everybody could see it, to the point of almost destroying my reputation."

Andrea's lip trembled, her expression puzzled.

"You stupid girl," Miranda repeated, in a whisper this time. Her eyes looked calmer and the red had began to fade from her cheeks as she began to speak again, much slower, and with such emotion that Andrea thought her heart might break all over again.

"At first, I thought _I _were stupid," she began.

"I would hear your persistent kindness to Emily in the outer office and smile to myself; when I would see you laugh with Nigel I'd wish it were me that could bring such a smile to your face; I'd hear a song on a lazy Saturday morning and you were the first person I'd want to play it to; I'd read an interesting book and wonder if you'd found solace in it too. I wanted to know those things. On so many occasions, I planned on asking you about your favourite books, films, places, people, songs. I wanted to know it all. I thought everything would be better after Paris. I waited. I waited to ask you. And then... you just _left_."

Miranda's voice had become louder and angrier and tears began to fill her eyes.

Andy couldn't wait a second longer. She cupped Miranda's face with both hands, pulled her in and kissed her. Hard.

Miranda sank into the embrace, her lips moving against Andy's on instinct, hands tangling themselves into long brown curls.

For a moment, the editor was acutely aware of loudening whispers and maybe even a few camera shutters, but _right now_? She couldn't care less. Miranda was in the arms of the love of her life and she was there to stay.


End file.
